


Without You

by schrodingersbee



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Depressed Sherlock, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Sad, Sad Sherlock, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-30
Updated: 2016-02-19
Packaged: 2018-05-17 06:58:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 4,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5858824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/schrodingersbee/pseuds/schrodingersbee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock had realised that despite coming back from death to him, John is no longer his.  Will John understand whats happening before its too late?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> another attempt at a fanfic x  
> my tumblr is consultingravenclawhunter.. plz follow im so alone  
> also comments wanted!

Blood. That was the only thing Sherlock could focus on. Its warmth, scent and the metallic taste as it dripped down his head with some leaking into his mouth. He couldn't be bothered to wipe it away. He had spilt more blood than this, had lost more as well. He had torn apart skin and flesh after having had the same done to him. He had climbed from death itself to keep his heart safe.

But now it isn't his heart. No, it never was.

**_A couple hours earlier..._ **

He didn't mean to make him angry, hadn't thought it through, really. 

Sherlock, Mary and a furious John stood outside the restaurant. The wind was starting to get cold, but that didn't matter to Sherlock because his purpose, his everything, was standing just in front of him after so long apart. He could almost feel the heat if only he was in her place then stood alone.

Right, so after you go running about playing whatever games with Moriarty.."

"No John let me.."

"No! Not now not ever. You left, Sherlock. You left all of us to play some twisted game, but I'm through listening to you right now and get this into your head!" Johns words were bitter and filled with so much hatred Sherlock wanted to take a step back but he couldnt. This was his John and he so wanted to hug him, he couldn't move.   
  
"You decided to go and now you don't get to come back, You went and now you don't get to screw up my life again" Johns words kept ringing so loud. 

"You need to go! Live and be a freak to someone else"

_freak_

"Living with you, all those times, they were a fucking mistake"

_mistake_

"And I don't ever want to see you again"

_ever_

"John plea..." That's when the ringing started.

The floor was cold and harsh on Sherlock's back, but his face was warm, warm with blood.

"John, no, that's enough! He needs help" It was only one kick, but Sherlock could feel it opening the newly stitched marks all over his back.

He would laugh, if he could breathe. Those scars - the ones Mycroft had said needed to heal, but Sherlock had insisted on leaving early to get to John - had been torn open by the very man he had taken them for.

"He's just being dramatic Mary, you're right, let's go" Sherlock could hardly hear John over the fuzziness, but he caught words mentioned like ambulance and once again freak.

_Freak and a mistake. Never wants to see me again._

The rain had already started falling when Sherlock lifted himself off the floor. He couldn't tell if it was blood or mostly water down his back now. Then he walked and walked. 


	2. Alone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sooooo here we are again....

He didn't remember how he got back, it just was a blur since rain turned to tears. The rough drag of the shirt was the only thing keeping him anchored.  But he didn't return to the flat.

Looking at the golden numbers he no longer felt the connection he did before. Of course he didn't, his home was never just the building. All those nights so close to spilling his heart, revealing every emotion but the words never came. How could one be expected to preform poetry in the audience of God himself? He couldn't put the warm feeling of belonging into words nor convey the tug in his heart at every date and girlfriend.

So he waited, planning to reveal when he found perfection. For that is what the person of his affection deserved. And now? he would bury those feelings so deep down in his own mind it was sure to destroy everything. No matter how deep he dug they wouldn't disappear no not at all. But he knew they will worm themselves into every room of his mind palace and destroy everything.

That's why love was never an advantage. It would break him and now? he couldn't find the will to care. Why would he, he is just a  _freak and a mistake._ It must be true, his heart told him so. 

His own heart never wants to see him again, frankly Sherlock could understand.

Sherlock didn't need to see his reflection to know why. A fat bloody freak. A broken idiot. A mistake that ruins everything. People,relationships and lives. He is a cancer on the living. An unloved machine. 

His mind palace was alight with alarms. Red flashed behind his eyes. But he couldn't bring himself to listen to anything but the constant screaming of  _freak,mistake,never._  

The streets no longer looked familiar, but he wasn't really paying attention. The stars were bright but Sherlock was too dumb to know anything about them, no he was an idiot for it. But, he argued, why would he take up room for things he would never get to go to nor things which made him feel so isolated when he could keep the colour of his hearts eyes.

So blue and yet Sherlock was certain he saw them green at times. He kept these images painted across walls and rooms. Endless corridors dedicated to his hearts proud posture, jumper collection, favourite teas and so much more things. But it didn't matter now because those words, the pain, it had taken root so deep inside him there was a flame starting and it burned without care. 

 

 


	3. Needed not wanted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guys I am so sorry I do have a storyline Im just a bad writer. Sorry for the pov changes but i thought it would be better to flick between.
> 
> tumblr is still consultingravenclawhunter, do check my gay out

In the end he did finish in Baker Street. The world can blame a black car and an annoying brother for that one. Sherlock was content on being on the streets for why would a freak like himself deserve sleep, a machine doesn't need sleep.

No instead he lies there, not paying attention to the world. The flat now felt cold and that brought tears once again to his eyes. The only place he felt like he belonged was along side  _him_ and therefore this flat was the closet thing to a home. But that was no longer true. His heart left him and yet it was never his in the first place.

By sunrise his mind palace was covered in smoke and he no longer felt the heat.

"Sherlock! you have to help me I think somebody has John. I got this..." The words had stopped, he no longer listened to her as he felt worry consume him. It had been days since he felt at all, days where he had stopped living but now being. 

 _St James_. The thought that flew through the smoke.  _Save John_. Those words rang like a prayer through out him, possessed him and threw him into action.

The bike ride was once again a blur but the flames were not. 

The cuts still not healed and the pain that went with them flared when he jumped into the fire. It didn't matter, he needed to save John Watson. His skin burnt away as gasoline covered them, making the fire oh so more hot. 

He dug and he tugged until his heart was lay coughing and away from danger.

Then the silence, those eyes focused on him. She touched him, reassuring he was ok and yet those eyes were only on Sherlock.

Sherlock couldn't decipher the emotions in them but he did remember those words.

_Freak,mistake, NEVER TO SEE AGAIN._

He ran.

Blood poured from open wounds once again and the lack of sleep or food kept him feeling dizzy. But John had told him never again, he had to make his heart happy. 

 

"Sherlock!" John cried at the retreating figure, trying to stand up too quickly. He didnt see the pain and fear that had filled Sherlocks eyes but he did see his friend run from him.

Friend? 

"Come on John lets get you to a hospital" Mary moved him and supported him for every step he took. 

"But but but.." "John he has made up his mind, leave him".

 

_Freak,mistake,never again_

_Fat, **your fault** ,useless,ugly, **your fault** , idiot, **your fault**. _

**_Monster_ **

Sherlock had gotten to baker street, somehow. He tumbled through the flat knocking over everything. Scrambling out of his clothes Sherlock scrapped at the floor. He needed it to stop, all of it. One place that no one would of found.

But John didn't like him taking drugs. Must keep John happy. No drugs. 

He still needed it all to stop, the flames were consuming him from the inside. He wants no needs release. John never said no to his other addiction. But Sherlock never told him, but John is a Doctor, an army Doctor with a therapist, an intelligent man, he would of noticed. He didn't mention it so it was fine. 

Racing into the bathroom Sherlock scrambled to get his old friend. Before the drugs and before...  _him_ this was his release, this was his way of living rather than being.

Sherlock collapsed that night after tracing red line after red line. They were thinner and younger than the ones from his time away,which were bleeding as well, but the new ones had a new purpose. The new ones are his oath to rid the world of this mistake.

 


	4. Attack

The bleeding helped fix his masks. It let him breath like he used to, now Sherlock took cases and was useful again. His arms and legs were filled but it didn't matter, no one was there to notice them.

Sherlock was even looking into the underground terrorist mystery, much to his Brother's joy. Mycroft was getting too nosey for Sherlock to handle. He kept appearing for lunch but unable to fill in the awkward silence he always left earlier than expected with some stupid excuse.

The Holmes Brothers despite what it looked like were close, it was just a unusual relationship. Sherlock understood that he was below Mycroft in every way and even rebelled against it then Mycroft would take care of him whether it be from judgemental children, addictions or sometimes even himself. 

There had been many an occasion where Sherlock had spent the night in Mycroft's bed just because his own mind would be tormenting him, never letting him sleep. 

But all of this wasn't because Mycroft cared, no because that is a disadvantage and one only the stupid one of the pair would do so. No Sherlock knew it was probably the pestering of his Mother which caused it all. He wasn't smart enough for Mycroft or anyone else. A smart person wouldn't kill everything they touched like Sherlock did. 

"Well we were just sight seeing when we thought we could just pop in for a visit" Sherlock's Mother answered when he asked why they were taking up valuable space in their, no his, flat.

"You mean you couldn't pass an opportunity to annoy me" Sherlock was pacing. After days spent alone he wasn't ready for this. 

"We are just worried about you darling, Myc said you weren't yourself and we just..."

"What thought that you getting in my way would help? I've never wanted nor asked for your help! Why would I want it now?!?" Sherlock stood fuming. All this concern now was making him angry. He had gone through Hell and for weeks he cried wanting help as he peeled off clothes nightly as his wounds had slowly gotten infected, wanting someone to help him keep the food down as he sat for hours by the toilet and now? No he was done. 

"No your leaving" Sherlock started pushing them out.

"William please talk to us, talk to anyone if not us but just talk to someone." His Father spoke up as they were forced out the flat. Whilst ensuring his parents were leaving Sherlock only just noticed his visitor

"Clients?" John asked as he studied the collage of photos and notes Sherlock had pinned up. 

"Parents" Sherlock answered coldly wishing John would just leave. He didn't understand why John was here, didn't he know the quicker Sherlock was done with this case the quicker he could leave John to be happy?

"Really? they just seem so ordinary" A flash of pain went through Sherlock's heart but he could no longer feel it. He knew what John really meant, he is a freak. 

"Leave" 

"What?"

"GET OUT!" Sherlock could feel the fever. He needed to get John out before he passed out. It would bother John if he didn't, he would be manipulating him.

"Sherlock are you ok?" John took a step back and started to notice things about his ex flatmate. The sweat and pale skin was the first thing he took note off then after that the blood stains on his robe.

"YOU ASK ME IF I'M OK?! I DIED REMEMBER, YOU DON'T NEED TO CONTINUE FAKING THAT YOU CARE. I DON'T FUCKING NEED THIS GET OUT!" Sherlock's words scared John into action.

Just as Sherlock heard the door downstairs close he let his body take over. Just before he became unconscious he had a break through.

"Oh an _underground_ network" 


	5. Followed

John was only two minutes down the street when his own anger left him. Why he had even been angry was a mystery, Sherlock had ever right to send him out. It wasn't his flat any more.

But Sherlock had looked so unlike himself, that thought made John freeze. Sherlock was always thin yet he had definitely looked thinner, his skin was pale but clammy like he had a fever, his hair looked more messy than the detectives normal look and his eyes were empty at first like he couldn't care about anything any more but when he was shouting they looked like they were on fire.

John had never seen Sherlock that angry, even when dealing with idiots he was calm. Frustrated maybe but still calm. 

Whilst trying to make up his mind John sat on a bench. He must of been there only 10 minutes before he noticed a familiar figure heading towards the nearest station. Following behind Sherlock, John was sure he was going to be found. It was Sherlock of course he would notice someone following him. 

Yet Sherlock didn't once turn or speak up. Now John noticed the way he was walking, like it ached everywhere. Sherlock didn't let anyone touch him either, even when it meant falling on his side when a business man went thundering past. 

They had gotten to a close off section of the station where John was sure Sherlock was going to turn back but instead the mad man broke the lock on the door and slipped through. 

"Underground... of course it would be underground...November....treason and plot" Sherlock had been muttering as he climbed through the old tunnels, still not realising he was being followed. That worried John.

"Parliament of course, its November what else would it be" Sherlock laughed to which John realised, they were going to find a bomb.

Checking his phone to see there wasn't any signal John cursed silently but continued to follow Sherlock.

After a short walk through the empty tunnel they came to a carriage which Sherlock was quick to climb into. John stood at the door trying to spot whatever danger was supposed to be in it when he heard Sherlock gasp. 

Sherlock had spun around and now faced John.

"Hi Sherlock, erm well this is awkward" John laughed joining inside the carriage. Sherlock didn't move for a while which worried him but not as much as the way he was carrying himself, probably "failed an experiment earlier" John thought.

"You can't be here"

"Well I thought you could have some help, I'm guessing a bomb"

Sherlock didn't reply and ignored John all together. Instead he pulled at the chairs and floor boards like his life depended on it. The two men stood frozen when a floor board was moved to reveal a bomb.

_Well done freak, now you've killed him. You were too stupid to realise you were being followed and now your very heart is going to die with you. He had a happy life whilst you were away and now look you've screwed it all up._

The voice talking to Sherlock changed into a more sadistic tone and in front of him a figure appeared.

_I told you I would burn the heart out of you but looks like you beat me too it! Shhhherrrlock your love is going to die._

"Sherlock?" John's voice broke him out of the trance like state he had been in. "You can stop it can't you?"

Sherlock panicked. He didn't think he could. He couldn't think at all.

For a moment Sherlock thought he was back in 221B.

"I'm sorry" Sherlock whimpered and so he was, he put through John through hell and now claims to love him. He didn't think of another way, leaving his heart behind. It didn't matter that it was too save him because Sherlock should of thought of another way.

"What?"

"I don't know how..." He had never been good at showing his emotions. Sherlock felt happiness, sadness, pain and love like anyone else but he couldn't explain them, they're illogical and Sherlock just didn't know how.

They exchanged a few glances and John continued talking but Sherlock didn't hear him over the fuzz which had once again washed over his mind.  _Infection,fever and being pathetic will do that too you._ Switch. He quickly leant down and turned the bomb off not understanding the look of rage in John's eyes.  _Well you did screw up his life, why couldn't you stay dead Sherlock?_

"You bloody knew! All that time" John was pacing now.

"Of course they always have a swi..." Pain spread across his face interrupting him. John had slapped him. He hit him. 

"I thought we were going to die you idiot! What the fuck is wrong with you?!" John screamed at Sherlock before storming off leaving the shocked detective still knelt down holding his face.

_See he doesn't want you and soon he won't need you. Tick tock Sherlock, tick tock._

 


	6. Countdown

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys!  
> I do hope this isn't terrible so far...  
> But thanks for ready still.
> 
> DO REMEMBER my tumblr is consultingravenclawhunter

The days once again flew by. Being unable to sense time seemed to be a constant, it was all just a blur. Sherlock didn't sleep, hadn't eaten and was barely breathing. The infection and fever had seemed to slow everything down where he couldn't seem to do anything. 

_Soon Sherlock._

Moriarty's company rarely left. Sherlock knew he wasn't real but he couldn't bring himself to care. All his time was spent making sure everything was in place. Oh and organising John's wedding.He had been so kind when he asked Sherlock to be his best man despite him hating the detective. Of course he would pretend to care, he's John, the angel who could do no wrong and the heart of the machine. So Sherlock put all his efforts into the tasks at hand. He poured his heart out so John could be happy.

Sherlock kept to himself mostly avoiding the watchful presence of Mycroft. His brother would realise what he was planning on doing, he would stop him but John is more important than anything Mycroft could try argue with. 

The stag night was heaven. Sherlock could pretend that everything was ok and that John loved him too. They were so close he could smell John's cologne and it smelt like home. Something Sherlock would never have. But the night ended far too quickly.

The night before the wedding Sherlock was sick. He couldn't fight the fever and be human that night. Sitting by the toilet he couldn't stop the tears. He cried that night for his love and loss but also for the pain and horror he forced his heart to endure. That night Moriarty was sat right beside him.

Sherlock cleaned the next morning trying to look at least a little bit human like.

_Just one day Sherlock, it's the final act._

"I don't think I can do it" Sherlock couldn't remember at what point did he start talking to Moriarty like this but he was the only one left, the only person who he had by his side.

_Just you and me Sherlock. John no longer wants you but I helped, I never lied and I was with you every set of the way here. All that blood you spilt which has made you even more of a freak and a monster to him. But me? they left you in that cold room with the blood but I didn't. I never left you._

It was all true, the only one who cares for Sherlock is a dead madman.

_I prepare psychopath, it's more sexy don't you think. But you prepare jumper wearing doctors now don't you?_

"Can we not talk about this?"

_Well we aren't really talking now are we?_

The wedding was a blur with Moriarty besides him Sherlock some how made it.

_If I didn't notice the whole corridor dedicated to a certain Watson I would of said you loved me Sherlock._

The speech was hell but wasn't all of today for Sherlock. After saving the man who is even closer to the Doctor than the Detective, Sherlock left. No point in him being there any longer.

_Now for the end Sherlock, it is for the best you know. How could someone live without their heart?_


	7. Promises

John wasn't going because he was an adrenaline junkie, no he had settle fine into normal life. Sherlock used to say he was an addict for danger but he hadn't seen Sherlock for weeks anyway he was happy in a no danger styled, family life.

He was going for a concerned friend, nothing more.

John hadn't needed to sprain the junkie at the doors arm, but he did so there wasn't much point thinking about it. The smell of the crack house made him want to be sick, but he continued. Once he found Isaac he froze staring at the body lay beside him.

"Sherlock?"

 The man didn't move at all, John wasn't even sure if he was alive. Then he realised what that mean't.

"Sherlock!" The doctor fell to the detectives side "Sherlock I need you to answer me".

Sherlock didn't really understand what was happening, one moment he was in bliss fading away and the next there was a loud voice calling him.

_Ah I think it means we failed this time._

Failed? oh yes he was trying to leave. He had completed his last mission and he was trying to go before he messed everything up.

_Looks like there is still time to ruin your precious John's life. Ah well there is always later._

John during Sherlock's awakening was trying to move the detectives body into a sitting up position before noticing the blood now covering his hands. Shocked John quickly searched for any wounds and then noticed the carvings on Sherlock's arms. 

"Been there for days, told me to leave em alone so I didn't question it" Isaac muttered "is he dead?"

"No! of course not just hurt" John could feel the panic in him. Those cuts were perfectly straight, too straight for an accidental injury. Looking across his ex-flatmates left arm he stopped breathing at the sight of words Sherlock had put there. In bright red "Freak", "Mistake" and "Unloved" stood out on ghost white skin.

"John?" Sherlock's voice sounded like he hadn't spoken for days.

"Come on Sherlock lets get you home" John whispered back before helping his friend up, all whilst trying to understand what had driven the smartest, wonderful man to do such a thing.

"I'm sorry John I know you don't like the drugs, please don't go"

"Sherlock I am never leaving you again"

 

 


	8. Together

It all had happened in a flash, John wasn't even sure how he hadn't noticed it all. The lies with Mary were out and he had left to go back to Baker Street when he found out about it all. The shooting was the worst thought because for a moment when he saw Sherlock lay on the floor, he couldn't breath.

He loved the detective, still did. John didn't know whether to cry or laugh. All this time he loved Sherlock Holmes and all he did was pushed. 

In hospital John had seen the scars and he wasn't stupid, he knew what they were. Sherlock just left when he asked about them. John hadn't understood why he wouldn't open up, they were friends weren't they?

That's when Mycroft came round, John had never seen the man so angry. He screamed at the doctor that those scars were Sherlocks way of coping with a broken heart.

Who would of captured the consulting detectives heart?

Mycroft told him. He had done that. He had torn the most amazing man he ever knew to pieces and left him out alone.

John meant it when he promised never to leave, Sherlock took a while to convince. At first the man rid the flat of himself, trying to please John so he wouldn't leave. John was happy he meant so much but he saw how much it hurt Sherlock. The man was throwing away his life again.

The John told Sherlock one night. Sat side by side John explained and apologised and with tears spilling from both of them, they sat as one comforting each other. 

Peace was restored. It took a while with Sherlock needing a lot of support and help to get him out of that dark spot John had put him into. In the end it was all worth it, every last argument and silent nights.

Finally both men could live again.

 


End file.
